


For The First Time That I’m In Love

by murdcok



Category: Marvel
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Falling In Love, First Kiss, M/M, clint is autistic and that is CANON!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-05 01:23:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14606121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdcok/pseuds/murdcok
Summary: “Clint also also remembers extremely well the first time he saw this James Barnes. He walked into his first dance rehearsal, excited to start the show, when he saw a boy slightly taller than him, long brown hair pulled into a sloppy bun, and a jawline that could literally murder him and he’d be thankful for. Natasha pushed passed him in order to congratulate the other boy and decided to introduce him to Clint so he wasn’t just standing there like afish out of water you stupid clueless idiot.”





	For The First Time That I’m In Love

**Author's Note:**

> the musical is an american in paris & the title is a line from a song in the show

Clint remembers reading the cast list very clearly- he knew he wasn’t the director’s favorite but _dammit_ he wanted Jerry. The only thing that made up for it was the fact he was dance captain. Natasha was mad at him, but hey, he worked his ass off for this audition and at least she got Milo. 

He also remembers reading the cast list and seeing James Barnes: a name he was aware of but unfamiliar with. In a chat with Natasha later that day, he discovered he was an exchange student who arrived late last year, was primarily friends with Natasha and Steve Rogers which didn’t make sense to Clint but he listened on anyway, and was an extremely good dancer. Russians were like that, Clint figured. (“He’s not even Russian you stupid idiot don’t be jealous just cause you didn’t get the part,” Natasha had said but at that point Clint stopped listening.) 

Clint also also remembers extremely well the first time he saw this James Barnes. He walked into his first dance rehearsal, excited to start the show, when he saw a boy slightly taller than him, long brown hair pulled into a sloppy bun, and a jawline that could literally murder him and he’d be thankful for. Natasha pushed passed him in order to congratulate the other boy and decided to introduce him to Clint so he wasn’t just standing there like a _fish out of water you stupid clueless idiot._

“James, but friends call me Bucky,” he said, like you would say when you introduced yourself, and instead of being a normal person like him, Clint just went, “I know,” and smiled awkwardly before Natasha swooped in to save the day and say “His name’s Clint,” but then Clint went and ruined it again with “Francis Barton, but no one ever calls me Francis except my mom when I come home too late,” like, alright just share your entire life story why don’t you?

Thankfully Clint was pulled out of his embarrassing downward spiral because their director had entered and he could focus on his good dancing instead of his awful social skills. Except for the fact that James was probably far better than him because _he_ got Jerry and Clint _didn’t_ and he’d probably look like a stupid idiot when he tried to dance and-

“And of course, your dance captain, Mr. Clint Barton will always be here to help you learn and remember your dances if you’re ever absent,” their director said and Clint gave a small smile and nod to the group of kids around him. 

They began to scatter around the stage and stretch as their director gave the usual “this year’s gonna be great and we’re all gonna be great and life is great” speech but life didn’t feel like it was gonna be great because Clint already has a big fat crush on their lead who is most definitely straight and not interested in stupid Clint at all. They warmed up and learned a little portion of “I Got Rhythm,” but Clint was most definitely not paying attention because James- Bucky- had complimented his dancing and Clint has not been able to think about _literally anything else since._ Rehearsal ended in what seemed like five minutes and Clint was practically racing to get out of there and calm down for once in his life. 

“You think too much, you know that?” Natasha stated as she and Clint walked towards their homes. 

“And sometimes not enough. ‘Francis Barton but no one ever calls me that except for my mom,’ who the fuck even am I?” Clint replied, kicking at the pebbles that stretched out on the pavement before him in frustration. 

“Oh, stop pitying yourself, you big baby,” Natasha said, “He definitely likes you. He laughed at all of your stupid jokes and complimented your dancing and said that he can’t wait to work with you.” 

“Wait, he said that?” Clint asked, dumbfounded as how the fuck could he have missed a statement like that? 

“Yes, you idiot,” and then Natasha had turned to open her front door and disappeared behind it leaving Clint to think his own thoughts like a crazy person. 

—

Clint spent most of his time before and after rehearsal learning all of the dances he had to learn because he was dance captain and that means you have to learn any dance move in the entire show because you’re capable of that, I guess. He also spent most of his time rehearsing being oblivious because he kept his headphones in and because he couldn’t hear anything but the music, he definitely didn’t hear Bucky coming around backstage to ask him to rehearse something. Clint only noticed when someone gripped him hard on the arm in the middle of a pirouette. 

“Christ man, you can’t do that do me,” Clint said, hand clutching his heart as it felt like it was racing 300 beats per minute. He looked up to see Bucky, speaking with an apologetic face so Clint assumed his was apologizing but couldn’t read his lips well enough. Clint held up a finger to symbol a _hold on_ and he made for his bag backstage and retrieve his hearing aids. 

“Oh you’re- you’re deaf. Okay, that makes a lot of sense,” Bucky said as he watched Clint place his aids back in. 

“Yeah? How so?” Clint asked, placing his headphones inside his pocket.

“No it’s just, I noticed you stare really intently at people’s lips when they’re talking and I thought you just gesticulated a lot but now it occurs to me that you’re probably _signing_ while you talk and, yeah, it just makes sense. Not that it like, freaks me out or anything, I mean I got the whole prosthetic arm thing so- yeah.” Bucky practically rambled on. Clint laughed lightly and decided to ask for the arm story later.

“So what’s up? You need help?” Bucky nodded. “Yeah, could you maybe help me with that bit in ‘Liza?’ The- the bench part, I’m just not entirely comfortable with it yet. It’s still confusing.” 

“Yeah sure, here, we’ll just-“ Clint started to drag their prop bench out from backstage and placed it in the center. “You’re just gonna-“ and he started going through the movements in his head, transferring it to physical movement, slowing it down and describing his steps as he went through. “It’s not that bad, just looks a little complicated.” Bucky got up on the bench next to him and followed his steps, almost falling off at least ten times. 

“God, I really hope you don’t twist an ankle,” Clint joked after a particularly bad slip. Bucky had caught himself, but not before Clint reached out to grab his arm and just got a whole handful of Bucky’s entire bicep and he shouldn’t be holding on this long but hey, gotta make sure he’s nice and stable on this bench, right? 

“If I get through this show without an injury, it’ll be a miracle. Alright, can we work on the next part? The part with Lise, do you know it?” Bucky said as he stepped off the bench. 

“Sure, not sure if you’ll be able to pick me up the same way, but we can try it,” Clint replied, trying his best not to blush.

“Nah, I’m sure I can-“ and then Bucky just fucking _picked him up by the waist with no warning_ and Clint has being _held in the air by Bucky_ and he thought he was gonna faint. “See! No problem. Now, let’s get on with it.” 

Clint tried to focus, he really did, but he could not think of anything else but the feeling of Bucky’s bicep under his hand and his arms wrapped tightly around his waist and then he made up some bullshit excuse about how his mom would murder him if he stayed any longer. 

—

Rehearsal was cancelled and Clint was about to grab his bag and leave but Natasha gripped his arm and told him— not asked— that they were gonna go down to the diner with Bucky and Steve. Clint didn’t hang out with Steve very often, would only really consider them acquaintances, but fuck if he would pass up an opportunity to spend more time with Bucky. 

“So, Clint, is everything you own purple? Or do you own any other color?” Bucky said as they walked down the street to the restaurant. Natasha laughed lightly beside him. 

“Oh, no, it’s just the autism. It’s a comfort thing, like, it makes me feel better when everything matches. I’ve been like that ever since I was a little kid. Purple aids, purple bag, sometime purple nail polish when I can’t find the right outfit,” Clint explained. 

“That’s actually... really cute. I like it.” Bucky replied, giving Clint a soft nudge on the shoulder. Clint smiled brightly. 

They arrived at the diner soon after and took the seat that Nat and Clint sat at most often. They mainly talked about the show and upcoming exams, helped each other with a handful of problems from homework, and joked around like stupid teenagers do. Bucky and Clint sat next to each other which may have pissed both Steve and Nat off, but they didn’t seem to care because they were constantly showing each other stupid memes they found and laughed hysterically. 

“God, it’s like they’re both stupidly in love with each other but neither one is man enough to make a move,” Nat commented to Steve as they laughed particularly hard at probably something just as stupid as them. 

“And neither of them will until we do something about it.” Steve replied smugly. They exchanged a look and— 

“Oh, shit, Steve, I forgot we had dance rehearsal. We should probably get going-“ Natasha fabricated. “No, you two can stay and finish the food, we’ll see you both later, alright?” She finished as the grabbed Steve’s arm and her bag, placing her pay on the table and leaving. Clint reached for the rest of Steve’s unfinished fries and they continued on with their conversation as if no one had interrupted them. 

“Hey, would you wanna go back to my place and study for English?” Bucky asked some time later, after they had finished both their food and the left overs of Steve and Natasha. 

“Yeah, sure, that sounds good,” Clint replied, grabbing Nat’s money off the table and collecting a few dollars of his own to pay. Bucky left the tip and they both left for his house. 

“Mama, Becky, this is my friend, Clint. We were gonna go upstairs and study for an English test next week, alright?” Bucky said as they entered the house, kissing his mother on the cheek and directing Clint upstairs.

“Becky and Bucky. Doesn’t that get confusing?” Clint joked as they sat on the other man’s bed

“My mother mostly calls me James, but with friends, yeah, it can get confusing.” Bucky answered. 

Not much studying got done, but all in all, Clint would call the night spent entirely with Bucky pretty successful. 

—

“You are... joking me. You have to be kidding. I leave for a day and you fucking, you sprain your knee,” Clint said as he witnessed Bucky sitting on the floor, knee definitely braced and iced and practically immovable. “You are insufferable.”

“It wasn’t my fault, okay? The bench, it broke. It’s not my fault.” Bucky defended himself, cringing when he moved his knee slightly. 

“Are you gonna sue?” Clint replied as he sat next to the other boy. 

“No, I’m fucking- I’m not gonna sue,” Bucky said.

“Great, now I gotta teach your understudy the dances. He’s not nearly as built as you, but I’ll make do, I guess.” Clint teased, squeezing a forearm lightly. “You flatter me too much, Barton.” 

Bucky sat in the audience and moped for the entirety of rehearsal. Clint tried his damnedest to teach the Jerry understudy how to ever begin to dance but it wasn’t working and dammit why couldn’t he just be the understudy. Rehearsal was ended early and Clint offered to walk Bucky home. He refused, naturally, but Clint insisted and if only he wasn’t so damn charming. If Clint could’ve carried Bucky he would’ve because nothing pained him more than seeing one of his closest friends in so much discomfort and pain. He opened the door for him, gave Mrs. Barnes a quick hello, and a demand that Bucky swear that he will stay off of his fucking knee and let it get better. 

—

Clint knew he had more shows to come, but alas, here he was, closing night, crying. This show had been such a dream to do and he wasn’t even Jerry. But, more importantly, he would miss the time with his older friends. (And also because he really wanted to be Jerry.) 

The cast had ushered themselves into the restaurant and prayed for the servers working there tonight because they were rowdy. A whole group of them had shoved themselves into a far too tiny booth and therefore, Clint had found himself uncomfortable pressed up against Bucky but if anyone really asked, he wasn’t that uncomfortable. They ordered their drinks and their food, joked about the show, cried over some more sentimental moments, and all became extremely tired. As 2 a.m. rolled around, the restaurant owner urged them out of his place and prompted them to leave a big tip for the waiters that had to put up with their annoying asses. 

Steve’s mom, the angel she is, picked up the four of them and agreed to let them spend the night at her house. Steve crashed as soon as they got home (he was a very tiny man), with Natasha after him, insisting she had a very important recital tomorrow. Thus, left Bucky and Clint, far too excited from post show adrenaline to sleep so they stayed awake and conversed. And, naturally, since it was almost 3 a.m., they couldn’t have normal conversations and instead Clint went for the end-all, be-all— “How’d you lose your arm?” 

“It’s dark: childhood bone cancer. How about your ears?” Bucky answered, too tired to explain any further. 

“I definitely got you beat: abusive father,” Clint replied.

“Oh, shit, man, I’m sorry,” Bucky said as he scattered to redeem himself.

“Don’t be. He’s passed now, car accident, along with my mom. It’s fine though, I like my foster parents.” Clint rearranged himself to lay on his stomach with his chin resting on his pillow. 

“Damn. Well, my father’s also passed, war vet. He wasn’t abusive though, thank god. You got a brother, right?” Bucky asked. 

Clint nodded, “Barney. He’s in college now, out in Boston. He comes home soon, you’ll have to meet ‘im.” 

“Do I ever get to meet your foster parents?” Bucky said, not knowing if he should step into this territory but dammit he was already this far. 

“Not until at least our fourth date,” Clint joked except really it wasn’t a joke because he would give his right arm to go on four dates with Bucky.

“Deal. How ‘bout we make our first one tomorrow? Coffee shop, down the road?” Bucky reached out to ghost a finger over Clint’s arm. Clint grabbed it with his opposite hand and held it firmly in his. 

“Do I gotta wait to kiss you?” Clint asked. Bucky replied with a soft laugh that could’ve drove Clint insane, but what was even worse was the way Bucky stalked towards him and rested his lips lightly over his own. Clint thought he was drunk and dreaming, there was no way Bucky was about to kiss him and even if he was there was no way his lips were this fucking soft and Jesus _Christ_ he’s never tasted a mouth so sweet and he’s already got a boner like a twelve year old and then the kiss was over but he wasn’t ready for it to be so he caught Bucky’s lips back into his and held them there for what felt like days. 

They were both quickly snapped out of their trance when they heard Natasha snickering next to them. “It’s about fucking time,” she said before rolling back over and going back to sleep. 

Clint rested his forehead against Bucky’s and laughed lightly, breathing in the sound of Bucky’s returned laugh and just living in this moment. Bucky’s arm slid up and rested against Clint’s waist and they just laid there, appreciating each other’s company and falling asleep soft and soundly.


End file.
